The idea of Asian Americans being the model minority has been the root cause of racialized hate crimes and violence in America, as seen in the murder of Vincent Chin and the L.A. riots. In this spoken word poem, I speak about the model minority myth, its origins in America, and the effects that it’s had on minority communities. I hope to shed some light on how damaging it can be to generalize about an entire population of people, and how we need to be conscious of that.

​4TH PRIZE WINNER:CHIDIOGO IGBOEKWE, "REVISE YOUR PERCEPTIONS"

Born into the worldWith stereotypes flying left and right.Afraid to act a certain wayFor fear that the stereotype will overcome my daily life.

If I keep my hoodie on,I’ll look suspicious.And if I just quickly run home,It’s gonna seem as I did some deeds that were very vicious.

Either way, I’ll probably get shotBecause nowadays, actions based on prejudice thinkingHas reached the very top.

I guess I just have to face the fact that:“Black men will always look scary in hoodies”“Black men will always look dangerous at night”“Black men will always be the suspects of the most deplorable crimes”

These are just notions people got used toLittle do they know that these are ALL misconceptions thatPeople have against black dudes.

People act against usOut of pure biased views.It’s not fair,It’s NOT rightThat people judge the black communityUnder a generalized lense.The action of ONE black man suddenly become the actions of many others?By far, this is not true and I’m actually starting to wonder…

You see, as humans, it appears as if we have gotten internally blind.Blind from within,And it’s overwhelming the mind.Our true perception of black as a whole is obscured,Replaced with filthy imagesThat fill up the mind.They seep through the media, TV, and music as wellAnd then all these stereotypes are bornWhich never once used to ring a bell.

We are now programmed to believe that all these things are true,And that black person will never be more than a stereotypeBuilt on lies passed from generation to generation.

As a whole we must revert the thingsThat were once held to be true,And mentally detach ourselves from the ignorance intertwined with stereotypesAnd tear them into two.We must approach each and every personWith a clear and objective viewBecause only then can we truly “unchain our minds”That have been fedWith these distorted conceptsOf who black people really are.

​3RD PRIZE WINNER:KYLE LU, "HISTORY"

Seven letters that make up four point five four billion years ago

H for Hatredanimosity; bubbling in the human heart

I for Intoleranceextreme xenophobia; an insensitive insecurity

S for Stubbornnessinability to change; steadfast and single minded

T for Truculenceimpulsive; trigger happy tramps

O for Obstinacyunshakeable mindset; overpowering opinions

R for Ruthlessnessmerciless; riots and rampage

Y for Yucky-nessdisgusting; youths yielding to yodelers

But this history doesn’t have to be our storyLet us change our paths, and unchain our minds.

Let H stand for Happinesssatisfaction; helping him and her

Let I stand for Integrityvirtuous; inventive, intelligent infants

Let S stand for Sympathyflexible and understanding; a sensible sensitivity

Society then and society now are two very different times. Though there may be some overlap, we are now in a very progressive age, where women no longer stay at home, and statistically, are the ones who bring the most money home; where a guy can marry a guy and they won’t be arrested where if you feel uncomfortable in your body, you can sway genders and feel comfortable. The left columns reflect the problems in our history, the cons and negatives of our society, [where gun violence, stereotypes, and rage have decimated peace] and the right reflects a goal that depicts a utopian society, where peace reigns. [I understand this may be hard to follow, I apologize in advance!! {The idea is to allow a free interpretation guided by key adjectives and phrases}]​

2ND PRIZE WINNER:LEANNA RODRIGUEZ, "CONSCIOUS OF IT ALL

Hatred and malice was evident on the faces of the young white boys. I could even see spit flying out of one of their mouths as they relentlessly yelled insults at the black girl who had recently integrated into their school. The integration of Kentucky High School had been featured on the news and caused uproar from some very adamant parents and students who refused to allow their school to be ruined by a black person. In my opinion, the stupid Negro girl wasn’t even worthy enough to be spat on by a white person. As I am watching the boys yell at her while waiting for my bus I feel a sense of pride. She was getting what she deserved. Negroes needed to learn their place and understand that it wasn’t amongst us white-folk.

Drawing my attention away from the group, I stood from my seat as my bus approached and turned to gather my belongings. However, as I turned back around I realized that my bus was still approaching, just incredibly slower. In-fact, as I took in my surroundings with my emerald green eyes, I became aware of the fact that everything had slowed so much that it was hard to determine if anyone or anything was still in motion. Bewildered and dumbfounded, I shakily took a step back, utterly confused about what was happening. My breathing was now erratic and my vision was beginning to blur. I began to feel faint and haggardly dropped myself into my seat once again. My heart was racing, and I tried to calm myself down. “This isn't happening James, you must be dreaming,” I thought to myself. As if trying to convince myself that I was dreaming, I closed my eyes, but when they reopened, I found myself staring into the darkness, the color of obsidian. Eyes wide and searching for a source of light I frantically began to blink and when I blinked for the last time, everything was normal … Or so it seemed.

Observing my surroundings I knew that I was still in the 1960’s and that I was still in Kentucky because I recognized the bus stop I had been waiting at and the whites and blacks signs posted on the doors of the public bathrooms located across the street. However, the signs seemed to be reversed, even at the bus stop as well which was now for blacks only. Perplexed, I began walking down the sidewalk and surveying my surroundings. There were oddly more black vermins that whites. As I was walking, one of them had the audacity to knock their shoulder into mine and spit out “White cracker!” as the they walked by. I was enraged that a black person had the nerve to insult me, but restrained myself from retaliating because I understood that blacks simply didn’t have the mental capacity to know that white people were just better than them. After disregarding the ignorant Negro, I continued my trip down the sidewalk only to be shoved again by another black who growled out “Hick!” I was livid because I was very well educated, probably far more educated than the Negro himself! Tired of being disrespected by scum, I violently swung out and my fist connected with the side of the Negro’s face. He stumbled back a bit, but before he could recover, I came at him again. Fueled on my my anger, I swung left and right at the black who was rapidly becoming bruised. Just as I was going to swing again, I felt a strong impact on my temple and fell to the ground. Before blacking out, I saw the blurred image of a black policeman standing over me with his baton in hand.

When I came to, I was locked in a dingy cell and my head painfully throbbed as if it had its own pulse. Sitting up, I began to recall what had happened. Two blacks had insulted me and I had attacked one of them. What those blacks said made me feel so … weak! I’d never been a weak person. I was always a leader, the people looked up to. But to have someone call me those things just felt demeaning. I was pulled out of my thoughts when I heard footsteps approaching. A corrections officer who was black stood outside my cell with a slice of bread and a small cup of water. Glaring at the officer, I reached forward to gingerly accept the food when he opened the food slot, poured the water onto the ground, and tossed the bread into the filthy cell. “How does it feel, Cracker?” were his parting words and they left anger boiling inside of me. Rushing to my feet, I pressed against the cell bars and yelled obscenities at the officers retreating back. Once he was out of sight, I plopped onto the small cell bed and instantly regretted my futile yelling because my head was now pounding harder and I felt weaker than before. What did the officer mean though? It wasn’t like I deprived him of food and water, I didn’t even know him. Sighing, I decided to forget about the officer’s comment and try to get some sleep.

I might’ve gotten 5 hours of sleep before I was startled awake by a loud banging sound. An officer appeared in front of my cell, opened the door and hauled me out, never uttering a word. Too dazed to protest, I silently followed behind the officer as he dragged me down a long corridor and to a large black door. Pushing the door open, the officer shoved me out and I was blinded by bright sunlight. Once my vision cleared, I was shocked by what I saw before me and became rooted in place. White prisoners, scattered throughout a yard, quietly socialized with each-other. Not a black prisoner was present and by that I was puzzled but somewhat grateful for. I wandered around the yard alone, until I was approached by two men who seemed to be in their late 20’s, around my age. “I’m John, he’s Adam,” said the man with blonde hair similar to mine: “James,” I replied to John. “So, what did the Negroes get you for?” asked Adam. “I fought one,” I replied. John gave a low whistle to that. “Those blacks will find any reason to lock you up. They just want revenge on us because we did the same to them….” Wait, what? “What do you mean?” I asked John. He looked confused by my question but replied and said “We used to be the ones who tormented blacks during segregation but a few years back a rebellion occurred and the blacks took over. Now they’re giving us a taste of our own medicine and it’s safe to say that it’s the worst I’ve ever tasted.” “Makes you regret treating blacks the way we did back in 1963, but we can’t take back the past,” added Adam. Suddenly a bell rang and everyone, but me, began heading towards two large doors, John and and Adam included. I stood there shocked by what John and Adam had told me but was soon broken out of my daze when a guard began yelling at me to hurry up and get inside. Lightly jogging towards the door, I entered the prison and the guard grabbed me roughly and began leading me towards my cell. Once the guard had “so kindly” escorted me to my cell and left, I was left to my thoughts.

I was baffled, “back in 1963” was just running through my mind over and over again. I wasn’t in 1963 anymore … and now everything made sense due to this fact. A time lapse must’ve occurred because now blacks were treating white people horribly. They probably got tired of us whites taking away their rights and had finally had enough. I never knew how it felt to be treated like a black person. I never knew how it felt to be disrespected and treated as if your existence didn’t matter. I was disgusted. Not with the way blacks were treating me but disgusted with myself. To know that I had once made a person feel so low and pitiful made me sick. I wanted to die. I felt that I deserved it too. Even if it meant that I had to rot in prison and would never return to 1963, I wanted to pay for the terrible things I had done. Thinking back to the black girl who was integrating Kentucky High School, a wave of guilt washed over me. I wished that I could’ve helped her. I wished that I wasn’t so ignorant to the world around me and that I would’ve realized everything much sooner. Realized that everyone deserved to be treated the same, and I wished that I would've realized that segregation was wrong. Now I was going to spend forever in a cell and never get the chance to change myself or the world either. I felt sorry for myself and I slowly began to sob, until I was hiccuping with tears streaming down my face. Look at me, I was a grown man, but was as weak as ever right now. Squeezing my eyes shut tightly, I thought of the bus stop I was waiting at and how I’d give anything to go back to that day and make the right decision. Mentally sighing, I opened my eyes … And everything was black. I was no longer in the cell and instead was surrounded by darkness. Hope filled me and closed my eyes tightly again. I opened my eyes once again, and was exalted. Before me was the bus stop, and there was the black girl across the street. Tears of happiness sprung but I held them back and began my journey towards the black girl and the group of teenage boys. Determination filled me, and I knew that everything was going to be okay now. So was the black teenage girl, who I later came to know as Tasha.

1ST PRIZE WINNER:EMMA LU, "UNTITLED"

“Changing one’s mindset” is a matter of individual action-- the only person who is capable of changing a mindset clouded by history is you. I chose to reflect on the factor of control in what we as people choose to see or ignore when viewing the world through our respective “lenses” of life, and how the path to social change relies heavily on expanding the mind beyond social constructs that confine us to ignorance.

2014"No One is Nobody, Be Somebody's Hero"

​5TH PRIZE WINNER:YOOYEON SHIM, "INSTRUCTIONS ON HOW TO CHANGE THE WORLD"

1. Own a writing utensil of choice. If you don’t have a notebook, use a dirty napkin, your hand, or the back of an ad as your notebook.2. Enter a train or bus of your choice. Crowded is prime.BONUS: If you still don’t have a writing utensil and paper, you may always ask for them from the people around you.3. Sit or stand.4. Introduce yourself to the person next to you.5. Tell them you are a writer, an artist, an activist, a dreamer, a fighter. You are working on an art project (name it, nickname it, give it some love). Ask them if they would like to participate.If STRANGER say no…YOU: “It’s just a couple of questions, nothing difficult.”OrYOU: “I see. Thank you for your time.”(STRANGER will say yes)

6. Brainstorm questions. Here a few to get you started. What’s your name?Where are you from?Where are you going right now?What kind of hero did you want to be when you were little?When was one time you felt like a hero?When was one time you could’ve been one?What are you afraid of?When did you feel strong?Do you know you have a voice?You have a voice.

7. Ask the questions. Listen to the STRANGER’s answers. Make note of them.8. Learn from STRANGER.9. Share your knowledge. Take a picture of this. Take a picture of your art project, the results from your conversation with STRANGER. Send it your friend, your old boss. Send it to Mom and her friends. Post it on Facebook. Make copies of this; tape it on your bulletin boards and streetlamps. Let this spread.

Repeat. ​

This piece attempts to undermine the idea that “nobody is no one” by giving a face, a name, and a story to the people around us and the strangers in our community, subsequently empowering those who partake in this project to attain goodwill.​

4TH PRIZE WINNER:WENG SI CHAN, "HOPE"

The strength of individuals may seem small, but if we collaborate with each other, the result is powerful. The message I want to spread is that what alienates people is not their ethnicities, but the devil in their hearts which I indicated in my artwork as a dragon. Once we beat the devil and overcome the discriminations existed, we can save our true selves. So don’t be mean, don’t be harsh. We can all collaborate to achieve an awesome feat and be somebody’s hero.

3RD PRIZE WINNER:EMILY LI, "BEAUTIFUL" (VIDEO)

My submission is a spoken word piece that speaks to self empowerment in the way we perceive our physical appearances. Many hate crimes are motivated by how a person appears whether related to race, gender, sexuality, etc. My poem relates to race as a motivating factor in hate crimes and how people of color are often victims because they aren’t white. I think the media strongly influences us to believe being white is the best way to look, and my poem debunks that belief through self acceptance and empowerment.

​2ND PRIZE WINNER:ALLISON CHAO, "UNTITLED"​My painting/collage is about HOW NO ONE SHOULD FEEL ALONE; imagery-wise and wanted to depict people who are a bit isolate, and used many colors to symbolize diversity. Anyone can be a hero, an advocate, protesting hate crimes. Diversity should be celebrated and I hope the message comes across in my artwork.

​1ST PRIZE WINNER:KEVIN YU, "ASCEND" (VIDEO)​My submission is a poem with a visual accompaniment that documents the feelings of a person that has been the subject of a hate crime. Its emphasis is upon the feeling of isolation and disempowerment. But as the the piece progresses, the character gains strength in his own self-empowerment. He comes to realize that he can be his own hero.

2013"Look Beyong The Surface... Hear My Story"

5TH PRIZE WINNER:FATIMA KEITA, "HAVE WE NO SHAME? A MULTIMEDIA PIECE ABOUT THE TRUTH BUT ALSO PEACE"

This is a multimedia, three dimensional collage depicting the causes and effects of hate crimes. The background uses fragments to portray the harsh truth juxtaposing positive words to represent the past, present, and future. The clay pieces in the foreground depicts how hate crimes are perceived in reality in today’s world and what we all share in common as humans, despite our differences. In addition, it offers an antidote to hate crime prevention for the future. All combined, this piece of art relates to the theme of looking beyond the surface and sharing our stories.

​4TH PRIZE WINNER:APRIL WEN, "EXTERIOR DECOR"

“Exterior Decor” depicts how outward images flatten human experience in a more insidiously oppressive way than they may seem. Hands of people of color, wrists together, fingers outstretched like branches of the same tree, break through expired, antiquated Polaroid film. On the opposite side are violent tacks that try to hold down the monolithic image. The fact that the tack, a household object, is used to pin down pictures that suggest that the flattening of human beings is reinforced by the seemingly commonplace and benign-advertisements, movies, television-which influence more overtly violent forms of oppression, such as hate crimes.

​3RD PRIZE WINNER:KYLE LU, "SCARS"

Dear 6 year old me,Tell yourself that this is when it all startedthat when they make their eyes smallerit isn’t to see what is written on the blackboardbecause they are staring at you with a smirk on their faces.

Dear 9 year old me,Tell yourself that when they say “Ching-Chong” with aChinese accentIt is not okay to laugh. It is not okay to smilebecause even though you don’t know what the world “racist”meansit doesn’t mean that it’s not.

Dear 12 year old me,Tell yourself that those bruises you get from thembecause you are the only Japanese kid in the gradewill take a week to healbut that those scars will take years to go away.

Dear 15 year old me,Tell yourself that when you confess to your crush you likeherand she doesn’t say no because she thinks of you as a friendbut tells you that she doesn’t date Koreansknow that it’s not your fault but hers.

Dear future me,I’m here to tell you that it won’t stop just yet and that it maynever stopthat in sophomore year, you will be called a fob and that youlook like Jackie Chanthat in junior year, you will be asked if you really are Asianbecause you got a math question wrongYou will spend many nights awake in your bed, thinkingabout everything that has and will happenYou will realize how words cannot break your bones, but canbreak your soul.

But I’m also here to tell youthat in sophomore year, you will find your group of friendsyou can share your deepest feelings and concerns withthat in junior year, you will no longer be ashamed of yourparents who cannot speak Englishand that in senior year, your scars will finally, finally healI’m here to tell you that it will get betterthat you will no longer have to hide those cuts in your wristsor no longer have to bear all the pain on your ownbecause your friends will tell you similar stories of their own,their experiences with racism and stereotypesand you will realize that within your community of friends,within your barrier of trusts,you will not stand alone.You will not be alone. ​

This poem represents all Asians who have been labeled by racism and stereotypes. It relates to the theme because it is someone who is brought up through stereotypes throughout his years and realizes that he is not alone; he finds out that his own friends share his stories.​

2ND PRIZE WINNER:JULIA CHESLER, "NONE"

​My submission is a sculpture of a chordophone string instrument. The fretboard is made of external characteristics/features, and the resonance chamber is a human being. The text along the sculpture asks whether any notes played on this instrument could describe the person inside. The answer is no--we cannot understand others based on such arbitrary indicators. Doing so results in the stereotyping, prejudice and hatred that feed into and perpetuate hate crimes.

​1ST PRIZE WINNER:MAURICIO MOREYRA, "VITRUVIAN MAN"

The Vitruvian Man is essentially a perfect rendition of the human body--a white male who fits the definition of “beauty.” Be it out of fear, anger, or ignorance, hate crimes are committed under the concept that both parties are different. That the victim's skin color, religion, shape, or beliefs differ from the ideal mold that has corrupted the attacker’s mind. Understanding the consequences of hate--sadness, terror, and death and accepting those differences are crucial in creating awareness and helping others. Ultimately, the Vitruvian man should not believe his ‘ideal’ is ideal.

2012"Unmasking Hate Crimes: Hear The Cries, See The Solution, Speak Through Art"

5TH PRIZE WINNER:SHIRLEY WANG, "OVERLOOKING OUR DIFFERENCES"

Paint and deco paint markers. My canvas then represents how war can alter entire societies’ views on a religion or a person’s appearance. In this case it is our entire nation who targets Muslims and any Eastern religion or look alike. “War is deception” by Sun Tzu.

4TH PRIZE WINNER:​AMRITA CHAKRABORTU, "STAY"

Take the walk with him as heStrides home, late afternoon sun gleaming.Read the text his boyfriend sends him, andSmile with him.

Let the quick laugh fall from your lipsAs it does from his, walking forwardIn quiet content.

Then keep walking, throughThe empty street, and reach his carWhen he does.

Look down with himAnd widen your eyesWhen you see it--Big ugly letters scratchedInto the blue paint--GAY--as if it’s wrong, as if it’sAn insult.

But can youBlame him when he stumblesBack? Can you blame himAs his heart pounds, stomach curls, aHand clasped over his mouth?Can you blame himAs he locks himself insideAnd retches, once, twice,Thrice, standing against theDoor?

Or can you stayWith him as he holdsHis head in his hands, stayWith him as he digs his nails deepInto his palms, stayAs he cries hot tears and rocksBack and forth, just stayWith him.

My submission relates to the theme in that I tried to depict the emotions and pain that victims of hate crimes have to face, whether an attack is physical or not. I tried to show through poetry how crucial it is that a victim have moral support, how important it is to have someone to help them through the aftereffects. In addition, I wanted to show just how senseless and cruel a hate crime can be through the use of descriptive language.

3RD PRIZE WINNER:SHUWEN LI, "REGERMINATION"

Hate crimes are committed due to biased judgement on sexual orientation, race, sex, beliefs, just to name a few. The black and blue of the painting represent the people who cause hate crimes. The dull yellow-leafless-almost dead tree represents the people being affected by hate crimes. The light coming forth behind the tree represents guidance. We as youth can support the people affected by hate crimes by guiding them with light and spread light. The colored roots represent the effect that support can make to a person affected by hate crimes; the light of guidance allows the tree to regerminate.

2ND PRIZE WINNER:NYKEMA WARREN, "QUESTIONING THE FAITH"

Peace to worshipers of Buddha, Jesus, Allah, and all other religious factions against religious hate crimes

Okay, so I can’tSay itCan’t conjure up itsMeaning in myHead because evenThough I’m prettySure it didHappen evidence lays imperviousTo my needs forcingMy “did” to set an arrangedMarriage with theWord “not,” I repeatWithout evidence it did notEver happen andThe pain I feelIs just the regret ofLetting something happenBecause my soul is asTight as the lower part ofMy body andThe locks on my heart;Must be prude ‘causeWhen Cupid shot hisDart I tried to runFrom allowing it toPrick me openHis dagger ripped meOpen but I reiterateThere was noEvidence noBlood no semen noScar tissue indicatingHe busted my seamsOpen, no. There wasNone of thatOnly nightmares thatCan’t seem to quenchTheir thirst to make

And I first thoughForget you GodAnd forget my lifeYou’ve forsaken me twiceWhen my love was unwaveringYours was cool as iceSpited me dailyYour love’s not divineIt’s a farce and a fakeAnd doesn’t existYou may love your other childrenBut me you dismissI pray to youAnd callBut me you never seeSo you got me hereStanding on my kneesSobbing tears made of barbed wireMisery’s my sire

Because I memorized theVenue, time, location, setting,What the night skyLooked like, whatA “good woman”Supposed to act likeTold me to get onMy knees and bowBefore my “king”Like my name wasMary MagdaleneBecause he was about toForce me to feastAnd he knew every ChristianGirl liked to say graceSaid real snide “Don’t bow before

And a sigh heDrove his headInto me, tryingTo stick his shift his shaftInside of meCackled, “Where is your Jesus now? He’s nowhereTo be found”

But I was strongAnd ran beforeIt could reach all theWay inAvoiding chance to shamefullyAdmit my firstWas a man whoDidn’t even believeIn ScriptureAnd was determined toDisproved my daddy’s sermon

Only thing worseThan being assaultedSexually be dying inThe wake of theRovving of your dignity“Appease and he’ll

Means like and GodWill cast a guiding light

Until I walkedHome one night andWas covered into unspeakableActions that made meTongue-tied because speakingTongues won’t keepYou alive, youThink providingSatisfaction will save youSince there isn’t any Mary’s leftTo hail and

I’m confusedSeriously I amBecause to thisDay I want toKnow the definitionOf rapeBecause stickingIn a head insteadIsn’t the same asPushing all the wayI wonder to this dayDoes it count?Is rape victim judge?By how they walkAway unscathed or howMany bruises theirBody is bathed in I

Want clarificationBecause asking WWJDWon’t help eliminateMy PTSD

Dreading everySingle night when

​The Atheist man who hated mySpiritual devotion so badlyThat he was determined toShake away the spirits thatSurround meSaid Christianity is a scamWith Christ as the artist

He attempted toCommence to shootingHis seed, guess he thoughtHis name was JohnnyMinus the apple(Disregarding Adam) but IRepeat, it never happened

My poem illustrates the story of a Christian female who is raped by an Atheist. At first she curses God for allowing her to experience such a devastating predicament but eventually finds it in her heart to forgive, and even goes as far as to deny the act as a rape. This relates to the them “Unmasking Hate Crimes” by encouraging people to recognize a hate crime (no matter how ambiguous) and to speak out against discrimination, but to also forgive the perpetrator. For forgiveness is one of the first steps to healing.

​1ST PRIZE WINNER:LISA LEE, "EVOLUTION OF HATRED"

Hate doesn’t start with a crime. It’s a cycle that doesn’t end until someone steps up. We don’t just have to stop the crimes; we need to stop the hate.

2011"Do You K(no)w Me?"​

5TH PRIZE WINNER:SHIRLEY WANG, "OVERLOOKING OUR DIFFERENCES"

The two girls in the drawing are blind, but they have slowly become the closest of friends. Ironically, it is physical blindness that has allowed them to truly “see,” or understand one another. We live in a world where many people become victims of hate crimes solely due to their races, nationalities, sexual orientations, ethnicities, disabilities, or any other physical trait that cannot be changed. Therefore, in the presence of a deep and heartwarming friendship such as this one, we must question ourselves: what use are eyes of those who don't have them can see better than those who do?

​4TH PRIZE WINNER:LYNJEN LU, "AN UNFORGIVING WORLD"

My client left.I dressed myself.I walked out of my room.As I walked down the block,Everyone stared.“Look, It’s her. She’s coming towards us.” “Don’t go near her.”“She might infect us with her dirty diseases.”I kept walking.I ignored the crowd.A policeman walked up to me.“I suspect you are carrying drugs and I will have you arrested.”He cuffed me.I was brought to a small, dark room of the precinct.He tore my shirt apart.He ripped my skirt off.He groped me.I screamed.“What do you think you are doing?!”“How dare you scream during an inspection?”He slammed me into the wall.He gave me a taste of his evil pride,He took a deep breath and gave me something.Something I never wanted to have.He left smiling.As tears strolled down my cheeks,I told another officer what had happened.I returned home.

I woke up and saw the news.A man in a blue uniform and a shiny badge appeared.He was prosecuted.I was filled with relief and joy.Then, I saw a picture of the victim.I checked my email.A woman had written to me.She said I will no longer be a part of her life.The woman was my mother.Then, a shitload of messages piled into my inbox.Messages from people I did not know.“You’re a whore.”“You deserve it.”“Kill yourself.”The next day,I was on the news again.The headline: PROSTITUTE COMMITS SUICIDE.

This relates to the theme because it talks about how people hate on others when they don't even know them. At the end of the poem, it talks about how people who don’t know the woman are hating her when they don’t even know her. They judge her without hearing her side of the story. The people who sent her the hate messages don’t even know WHY she is a prostitute in the first place and they judge her. The hate has eventually led to her committing suicide.

​3RD PRIZE WINNER:​EVAN GAO & DAVID WANG, "WHERE WE STAND"

Stare at the night stars and wonderwhat separates us from animals;is it our intellect, our technologyor something more intangible?

A difference quite disturbingbetween Humans and wild beastsis that we are often too willingto shun those a part of our own species,to cast them off to desolation,never to look back.

A tiger is never seen killing another tigera snake will never bite another snake;animals do not seem to hold the ability to hate,at least not their own kind,but we Humans?

Tears drop and sadness formsto know a Human being,a creature so divine, so uniquecould possibly be thrown into the depths of solitudedue to the physical features that nature has bestowed to thee.

The factors which we are born with,those of which we have no control over,may overshadow our unique personalitiesthat only our loved ones have come to know.

Why should we be judgedby the color of our skin,by the country from which we originate,by the cultures we possess,Or by the beliefs we live by?

It is because we are much more than that.

We are all too complex to be labeled,too unique to be stereotyped,too significant to be belittled,too human to not be respected.

In the past and in the present,people often look upon thosewho seem different and distantand chose to fear and despiseinstead of to understand and respect.

But how can a person be judged,before he is truly understood,before the pieces of his puzzle come to place,before his story becomes clear,before the world is seen from his view?

We have certainly progressed as a world,As nations united,Cultures combined,And peoples of all kinds became one.

From slaveryto the cruelties forced onto childrento the atrocities endured during wars across the globeTo the centuries of women depicted as weak and inferiorComes the morose picture of discrimination will forever exist in this worldno matter how big or small.

But from LincolnTo AnthonyTo GhandiTo ParksTo Tubman,one shall see the goodness and purity of many.

As Human beings we have the responsibility toenvision, embrace, and evolve,into a society where people can come togetherand help each other,help useradicate the crimes and evil that prevail this world.

All we need is a willingness to respect, accept, and ultimately love each other,as Humans,as a family,as one.

We wanted to write a poem that paints a portrait of hate and discrimination in the world we live in. The poem explore the seriousness and complexity of those issues, while also attempting to explain why they exist and how we can go about solving them. We also tried to stress the fact that person cannot be judged merely by appearance and assumptions, and that he or she is a very complex and unique individual.

​2ND PRIZE WINNER:ANNA HONG, "THE BOY BEHIND THE DOOR"

This drawing portrays the words “do you know me” as “do you know my situation, and can you help me?” The boy at his bedroom doorway represents a victim of a hate crime who keeps his problems to himself. He opens the door to find that his friends and family are aware of his solitary behavior, but do not know the cause. It’s up to the boy to manifest his hidden conflicts so that he can receive help.

​1ST PRIZE WINNER:JOAN WANG, "WHO'S THE VICTIM? DO YOU KNOW ME?"

A man stares out with hatred and anger written over his face, while a woman reaches out a hand from behind to stop him. The man seems violent and ready to commit a crime, with viewer as the victim, but then again, it’s possible that the man is the victim of a crime himself, and his hatred only reflects his anger. The piece tries to show how we can all be targets of hate crimes, and how we shouldn’t make assumptions based on appearances since most of the time, we don’t truly know the person we’re judging.

Our artwork is composed of paintings and drawings of how hate crimes can be dangerous. We used the earth as a symbol of unity. There is the good side and bad side in life and we are trying to portray that in our work. We gave some examples of hate crimes while we showed what people could do to make a difference and move forward in life. This is how it relates to the theme.

​(TIED) 5TH PRIZE WINNER:SHELLY LI & REGINA YU, "SHARED DIFFERENCES"

In America, We all have different backgrounds but were raised in the same foundation. Each of our differences can be a strength. Shared interests, like music, sports, hobbies, and perspectives. The mixtures of colors in people and simplicity of their shapes prevent someone from figuring out what group of religion, race, sexual orientation, gender, or ethnicity they belong to, because that tells nothing about their character.

​4TH PRIZE WINNER:WING CHAK YUNG & JEFFREY CHING, "NO SUCH THING AS 'DIFFERENCE'"​My drawing depicts the idea of having racism aside in order to accomplish the task. The drawing shows how players end up working together to overcome an obstacle. I did not include a last scene so the audience can make their own conclusions.

​3RD PRIZE WINNER:​MADEEJA KHALDI, "DOME OF UNITY"

Recently there have been heated debates concerning the construction of a mosque and an Islamic center two blocks away from Ground Zero . Yesterday, the City’s Landmark Preservation Commission unanimously voted not to extend landmark status to the building on Park Place where the mosque and community center were planned. The decision was based solely on the fact that there was little architectural significance to the building. This painting shows the construction of the Ground Zero mosque with help of workers from all religions, Judaism, Islam, Christianity, Buddhism working together to rebuild a house of worship that was destroyed on September 11, 2001.

​2ND PRIZE WINNER:EDWARD & CHELSEA ARENAS, "AN EMPTY WORLD"

An Empty World shows the creation of a utopia and its struggles to create equality; hate crimes, segregation, and prejudice prevent humankind from reaching this marvelous world. 2 billion years ago the world was created and land was joined together; in an attempt to recreate a perfect world we have drawn different hands holding various continents, from Africa to South America, and place them on the face of the Earth. On each hand there is one bracelet and displays not only one’s nationality, but its culture whether being Native America, South African, or an Italian bracelet each brings a unique lifestyle into this world. Though there are various headlines that show some sort of conflict with race, others attempt to create unity and why we should as well. The new Arizona law motivates sports franchises teams to show their disapproval like hosting the MLB All Star game in Phoenix, the NFL stripped and moved the Super Bowl elsewhere. Though we may have different nationalities and cultures, we are an important factor to the establishment of mankind.

​1ST PRIZE WINNER:MAWRA MALIK & MOEIZZA MALIK, "BE ONE TO WIN"

Our submission is a poem with a little of artwork. Briefly, it is about how getting along and respecting each other’s differences can help us achieve success. It relates to the theme because our poem is trying to show that difference among people can be taken in a positive way if everyone tries to cooperate and understand each other. The little artwork represents how different flags can combine in one community peacefully.

﻿2009"Power To My Identity"

​5TH PRIZE WINNER:CAROLINE CHIU, "DEAD GIRL'S MONOLOGUE"

There lies a girl,whose life started to sinkwhen everybody found outthat she didn’t drink.

Look at that girl now.What do you see?A desecrated bodyThat no longer breathes.

A beautiful soulthat was battered by wordsand stung by insultsthat came by the herds.

A helpless victimWith no hero thereEveryone was a villainBecause they didn’t care

Look at that girl.What do you see?A girl lost in hatred.That girl was me.

​4TH PRIZE WINNER:ANDREW GOMES, "THE MIRROR"

Times changes after 9/11. America and the rest of the world become paranoid and tense. This in-turn gave birth to a lot of stereotypes about South Asians, Middle Easterners, as well as American-born “brown” folks. This illustration is a clear statement of how people looked at South Asians after 9/11/ Stereotypes such as : anyone wearing a turban is a terrorist, anyone with an Islamic background who just happened to be from the Middle East is a terrorist, etc. The little boy staring in the mirror is seeing the reflection of what other people see him as, his stereotype. The illustration above, in the cloud, describes how his reflection is supposed look like: happy, innocent and not labeled as a threat.

​3RD PRIZE WINNER:JOAN LEE, "I AM ME"

​2ND PRIZE WINNER:OLIVIA CHENG & THOMAS SAW AUNG, "ONE SIMPLE WISH"

Sometimes the simplest things are the hardest, be it agreeing on what topping pizza or what sports to play. But even if we have differences, whether it be visible or not, we can overcome these obstacles if we learn to accept each other and make an effort to play together and try new things. Don’t you wish sometimes we all just got along? If we make a small endeavor to do something we normally don’t do, to forget about our differences and just do what we want, then maybe, just maybe, we can make that wish come true.

*Missing Piece*

​

1ST PRIZE WINNER:KRISTIN ANGELIE TABLANG, "MEETING MISS PERCEPTION"

My mixed media collage is a self-portrait of me--the blank face in protest of those who are quick to judge who I am, based on minimal information and a simple, quick glance. The frame, which is made up of corkboard and magazine strips, is purposely really colorful and jagged at the tips--it symbolizes the complexity of who I am as a person, and the fact that everyone including me, has their own unique imperfections. The poem inside the small, clear envelope tells of my encounter with “Miss Perception” (you’ll enjoy it, I hope!). Its underlying message is to teach readers a lesson, about the power of identity and the danger of misconceptions.​

​...Have you ever heard of the popular Miss Perception?Or perhaps her sisters,Miss Construe and Miss Apprehension?Known for their narrow minds and critical eyes,They claimed they could figure anyone out at first sight!Well, I myself met them not so long ago,On my way to attend a hate crimes prevention art show--It didn’t take long for them to start spewing presumptuous words,From “villain,” to “helpless,” to “reckless,” and “nerd”--I really couldn’t believe all the offensive things they had to say,They made my mood darken and my self-confidence start to decay.…”Rude,” “immature,” “obnoxious,” and “weak”--“Trouble,” “emotional,” “anorexic,” and “meek”...!Horrified, I felt incredibly hurt and ashamedTo be bombarded with so many harsh and mean names.But they kept going and going, until finally I screamed--“Please, stop! Just stop!...I’m not at all who you think!”Miss Perception cackled loudly,and with a sumg and spiteful smileProceeded to call me a “foolish little child.”“Don’t you know?” she went on,“It’s what everyone believes.”“...Quit lying to yourself! You really are quite naïve!”“Now run along,” added Miss Apprehension,“Don’t you have to do something homework, or host a math study session?”“Yeah!” chirped in little Miss Construe.“...You’re gonna be late to your freaky genius school!”Now, before I could even point out that it was in fact Saturday,And that even Bronx Science kids loved to procrastinate and play,The three sisters were gone as quickly as they’d came--...but all the hurtful phrases they’d cried lingered and stung just the same.My ego defeated and my pride entirely torn,I couldn’t understand the reason behind their blatant hatred and scorn…!tity and the danger of misconceptions.

The following day, I happened to be walking down the streetWhen I witnessed Miss Apprehension trip over her own two feet.My first reaction was to simply chortle and leave her lying there…After she’d been so mean, I really had no reason to care!All the callous slurs she’d spat at me still tainted my head...I simply couldn’t forget all the mean things that she’d said.But despite my hesitance and reluctance, my conscience got the best ofme---And soon I found myself surveying the damage,as I crouched down beside her on one knee.I asked if she was in terrible pain,And in between tears she sobbed, “Well, I--I--I think that it’s sprained!”As I helped her get up, she shot me a weird look;“Aren’t all New Yorkers suppose to be crazy, cold-hearted...err, crooks?”Taken aback, I chuckled lightly and said,“Now when you fell, did you, by any chance, also hit your head??”She smiled at the joke, but still seemed a tad bit bemused--“Trust me,” I continued, “...that claim is completely untrue,”“New Yorkers are actually all quite nice, thank you!”

Her ankle was swollen, she couldn’t walk on her own--So I saw no other option but to help her get home.When we got to her house, Miss Perception answered the door“You stupid, reckless teenager! This is your fault, for sure!”...I couldn’t believe that she was talking to me--It certainly wasn’t the thanks I’d expected to receive.“Reckless and stupid? Is that what you suppose I really am?”“...AND loud, and inconsiderate--you kids just don’t give a DAMN!”As I quickly opened my mouth to object,She sorely added, “...you teens have no RESPECT!”I sighed as the door slammed shut with a boom…I really couldn’t see why she was so quick to assume!Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse,I overheard her exclaim from somewhere inside,“That girl is not safe to be around!She’s too thin and weak, incredibly fragile…!”“I bet that she barely ever eats

And that she’s obsessed with counting calories…”...This woman was more insane that I’d recently bought…!Just because of my petite size and extremely thin frameShe was fast to conclude that a serious disorder was in fact, to blame.Nothing really could be farther from the truth--My one and only true love was food!For the longest time I’d been trying to put on a few pounds--But hard as I tried I just couldn’t, as strange as that sounds…Not far from their house, I spotted Miss Construe​Pacing back and forth, she looked quite upset and confused.As I got closer, I could tell she was mumbling something under her breath--...I caught a few words, then realized what had made her so very upset.I approached her, prepared with comforting words to impartTo help repair what seemed to be a classic broken heart.At first she threw me a sharp, ominous glare--But with some kind words her face softened,Melting away her aggressive air.“...my boyfriend and I got into a really big fightbecause he won’t stop insisting--That every woman’s purpose in life...is to cook for their men in the kitchen!”

I nearly laughed out loud--it all sounded so absurd!Quite possibly the craziest thing I had ever heard.“Now, you know that’s not where all women belong!Cheer up, don’t be sad! I know for a fact that he’s wrong,”“Take me for example: you couldn’t force me to cook for a man,”“At most, I’d shove in front of him a tin opener and a can…”“No, no! I’m sure he’s telling the truth!“...It’s what society dictates all women should do.”Shocked, I then said, “Well now, I’m afraid you’re mistaken--!”To which she jokingly replied,“No--that’s my aunt from New Haven…”After a few good laughs, I then tried to explainThe basis of what I was really trying to day:“You see, sometimes our society creates these silly misconceptions,Which classify individuals based on often false interpretations.“In general, these tags are known as ‘stereotypes,’“Mostly kept alive by word of mouth and media hype.”It’s like someone trying to put a stamp on me--Without not really knowing much about who I am!”“...Exactly! Now do you see why it’s oh so importantTo not draw conclusions about a person beforehand?”She nodded with immense excitement--It was the first time she’d ever been so enlightened.

Now go tell your guy that his claim is a huge fallacy,....And if he still doesn’t listen, well,There’s plenty more fish in the sea…!”And with that and a smile, I finally bid her adieuAfter all, this “nerd” still had plenty of homework to do…

Later that week, I received a small packageAttached to a box of chocolates was a sweet and short message:

“My sisters told me how you went out of your way,On two separate occasion, to brighten their day.I’m writing to apologize for all our mean interjectionsAnd to thank you for pointing us in a new, brighter direction.You’re certainly not a villain, troublemaker, nor rude--Nor meek, nor obnoxious, nor immature or crude.I must admit, I was wrong to jump to so many judgemental conclusions--I really am sorry for all the confusion.But thank you for teaching us all a very important lesson,Regarding the very real danger of believing a false conception.Last but not least,Thanks for enlightening us threeabout the importance of staying true to one’s self identity--For though everybody shares similarities skin deep,Each and every one of us, deep inside truly unique.”

﻿2008"Popping The Bubble"&"What Will Become Of Us"

​(TIED) 5TH PRIZE WINNER:SADIA REZA, "THE CHAINS OF HATRED"

This piece is a symbolism piece. The depiction of the earth and the chains are self-explanatory by the title itself. But the hand-the fist- is not a symbol of violence-but of the fact that we, as individuals, are obligated to take a stand against hate crimes.

​(TIED) 5TH PRIZE WINNER:JOANNE KIM, "REMNANT OF HATE"

​4TH PRIZE WINNER:ANDREW GOMES, "THE ROAD TO PEACE"

This piece is an abstract vision of what the world would come to if hate crimes continue. The color structure separates paradise from hell and damnation. The darker colors symbolizes chaos while the lighter ones symbolize peace. The pathway made of puzzle pieces symbolizes the road to peace but due to its condition people choose not to take it. In simple words hate crimes make our society weaker.

​3RD PRIZE WINNER:ANNE WU, "ENTRAPMENT"

​2ND PRIZE WINNER:JENNY CHEN, "TRAIL OF FEAR"

​1ST PRIZE WINNER:ANDREW GOMES, "THE ROAD TO PEACE"

﻿2007"Melting Pot vs. Mosaic"&"Not Tolerance But Appreciation"​

​5TH PRIZE WINNER:M. REDWANAL ISLAM, "NOT TOLERANCE BUT APPRECIATION"

​4TH PRIZE WINNER:​AUDREY TSE, "ONE BUT ALL"

3RD PRIZE WINNER:GLENN VELUPILLAI, "MERE WORDS"

​2ND PRIZE WINNER:​MAWRA MALIK, "THE FUTURE'S IN A MOSAIC"

1ST PRIZE WINNER:ZEEHAN WAZED, "PLANTING A NEW WORLD"

Descriptions not available for all artwork.

Below is SinoVision English Channel's coverage of OCA-NY's 8th Annual Hate Crimes Prevention Art Exhibit at the Museum of Chinese in America on August 14, 2014.

Founded in 1973, OCA Asian Pacific American Advocates is a national non-profit civil rights organization promoting and protecting the political, economic, and cultural rights of Asian Pacific Americans in America. We are interested in working with anyone who shares our mission of creating a stronger America by advocating for the values of equal liberty and justice for all.

OCA-NY is a 501(c)(3) organization. Our financial statements are submitted annually to the IRS. All of our board members are volunteers.